


Promise Me the Sky

by stuckytrash (Watsittoyou)



Series: Ohana [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alpha Steve Rogers, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, Little bit of angst, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Bucky Barnes, like literally a teaspoon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-07 20:12:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12239850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watsittoyou/pseuds/stuckytrash
Summary: Genevieve doesn't take to being a sister very well.Steve doesn't take to Bucky's ex very well either.





	Promise Me the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, it's been a while! A pretty long while... life got pretty busy. (life dump warning) I ended up acing ALL of my exams, managing to score the best results ever in my area, whilst being accepted into a hugely renowned workplace. Life's pretty great! But very, very busy. Very busy. I couldn't leave these guys, though, not when I still have plans for them!I will get round to answering those comments from the last fic soon, but not yet! I just wanted to get this out because I'm so glad to have finished it :) In the meantime, leave some comments on this one about what you thought! No doubt, though, I will be back with more :)

 

“PAPA!” Genevieve screamed, face red and soaked in tears as she batted Steve’s arms way from her roughly. “I WANT _PAPA_!”

“Genevieve!” Steve pulled her back desperately, trying to wrestle her as gently as he could back into his arms. “Baby, _Genevieve_ , Papa’s – papa’s looking after Henry, he can’t-”

“Henry go _away_!” she screeched, hitting him on the arms again.

“Genevieve, don’t hit me!” he managed not to yell, but tried to inject as much firmness as he could. “You _know_ you can’t hit people! And Henry is _not_ going away, we love him, and he’s _staying_ -”

“Henry no good!” she shouted again, more tears streaming down her face. “Henry _bad_! He loud and ugly and smelly and go away!”

“Baby, baby, come here,” Steve sensed her meltdown was coming to a more tearful end as her energy seemed to dissipate, leaving her limbs like jelly as she dove into his chest and started to sob there instead. Steve pulled her tight to his chest and shut his eyes, sighing hard as he listened out for Bucky. Just above the sounds of Genevieve’s whimpering, he could hear the cries of Henry coming from their room.

Henry had woken up crying and managed to wake Genevieve – something that had happened before, but never as dramatic as this. She’d gotten more attached to Bucky once he came home, especially when she realised that she had to fight for his attention. It was bound to all come to a bursting head eventually, but he hated that it happened in the middle of the night, while Bucky really needed help with Henry.

“It’s okay, puppy,” Steve soothed, stroking her hair back as she wrapped herself tighter around her father. “Just because papa’s with Henry doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you, okay?”

“I want papa,” she hiccupped against his chest. “Henry go away.”

“Henry’s just like you, baby,” he told her quietly. “He wants papa just as badly as you do.”

“I here first!”

“I know you were first, baby,” he agreed calmly, pressing a kiss to her hair in the hopes of quietening her argument before it began. “But Henry’s so small, you see? Just like those little dollies you play with? He’s like those. He needs a little bit more attention, sometimes, because of how little he is. You know that whenever Papa’s done with Henry, he always makes time for his little girl, right?”

Sometimes, Steve felt guilty. Times like this, when Genevieve wasn’t adjusting very well, or when Bucky slept through Steve’s (loud) alarms, he wondered if Bucky had been right to want to wait. Genevieve, even though she was two and a half, wasn’t quite old enough to understand yet. What was more, she’d grown up an only child. They’d spoilt her rotten, and they both knew it. She wasn’t used to having to share attention – it should only be on her, for all she knew.

Henry… was a difficult baby. Genevieve had been so easy in comparison, a schedule forming within a few weeks of her birth. At four weeks old, no such thing had happened for Henry. They’d had to call Bruce twice because he’d been so colicky that they worried he was ill, but fortunately he was still perfectly healthy. Just difficult. On top of a colicky baby, they had Genevieve vying for their attention whenever they looked away for too long, and…

And Bucky wasn’t managing. In truth, neither was Steve.

“Want papa more,” she cried into his chest, “He don’t love me no more.”

“He does, princess,” he promised her, pulling out of the hug to look her straight into the eyes as he swore. “He loves you more than you’ll ever understand. You’re his baby girl! Nothing will _ever_ change that – even Henry.

“I know you want Papa,” he continued, tone almost desperate. “I want to go be with him too, but he needs to take care of your little brother, okay?” She shook her head against his chest weakly.

“I want papa,” Genevieve whined again, and Steve just broke down. His own eyes filled with tears as he pulled his toddler back to his chest and tried not to cry in front of her.

“I know, I know,” he repeated in a whisper, fearing that talking too loudly would show her that he was crumbling. “We love you, Evie, I promise, but papa’s not coming right now. He’s not coming.”

His daughter just held on tight and cried.

 

She wore herself out a few minutes later, falling asleep in his arms with her tears still wet on her cheeks. Steve felt guilty even as he wiped his own tears away, tucking her back into bed as gently as he could manage, returning to his and Bucky’s room.

There he found Bucky staring listlessly at the TV even though it wasn’t on, Henry at his chest and feeding.

“Buck,” he murmured hoarsely, and Bucky turned his head but didn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m calling my ma tomorrow morning,” he whispered, trying not to move too much and jostle Henry. “We can’t figure this out.”

“I know,” he sniffed; his eyes were still red from his crying fit, nose stuffy and cheeks stiff from dried tears, and he knew Bucky could tell. “She – she thinks we don’t love her, Buck.” It almost set him off again, having to blink away the wetness to his eyes. “I – how could she think we don’t love her?”

“My ma said I got clingy when Becs was born, but she’s five years younger than me. I should have expected this…” he turned his mournful gaze onto his son, where it softened into adoration. “I love him so much. Both of them, I love them both _so much_. But I hate that – that I have to choose between them. He needs me so much more than Evie does, right now, but my little girl still needs me.”

“We need help,” Steve mumbled, shame burning his cheeks pink as he admitted it. He loved his kids _so much_ , wanted to make their family even bigger, and this was what he got for loving his kids.

 

“ _I’m not going to tell you you’re doing everything wrong,”_ his mother soothed patiently over the phone. “ _Because you’re not. You’re doing everything you can. Do you remember my friend Julie?”_

“The mom that never smiled?” he supplied. “The mom that decided she hated her kids when they turned four and six and left, having an affair with her wife’s cousin?”

“ _No, dear, that was_ June _. Her sister.”_

“Oh.”

_“Well,_ Julie _had a newborn when her oldest was – three? I think he was three, little devil. He’s fourteen now, and honestly, could learn some manners-”_

“Ma.”

_“Well, back to my point, her son – the baby – needed a lot of attention, as babies do, and her oldest just was not having it. So what she ended up doing – you probably won’t like this, dear – when her youngest was crying and her oldest wanted her attention, she went to her eldest first.”_

“What?” Bucky demanded, blinking as if to clear his mind. “That doesn’t make sense. I’m not going to leave my son _crying_ -”

_“That’s not what I mean – I told you you wouldn’t like it. I just mean that – alright. Imagine Henry starts crying, right now, a sobbing, whimpering mess. He’s hungry, he needs changing, he needs rocking, the whole nine. Genevieve starts crying too – maybe she just wants a cuddle from her papa, maybe she’s hungry too. What do you do?”_

“Change Henry,” he responded without hesitating, sensing that it was the wrong answer immediately. “He’s crying, ma, I’m not going to leave him crying-”

_“In a week’s time, he won’t remember that you were there immediately. In a week’s time, Genevieve will still remember, and think you don’t love her.”_

Bucky went silent, thinking on the shouting he heard from his daughter the night before. “She already thinks that,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t want to hurt her. But I can’t neglect my son.”

“ _It’s not neglect. I know Steve does his fair share, maybe ask him to step up and do a little extra sometimes. You need to repair your relationship with Evie before it goes too far.”_

Bucky sighed sadly, gaze turned to his month old son in his crib as he considered it.

“Okay, ma. Thank you.”

_“Don’t worry, dear. If you need more help, just give me a call, I’ll be happy to help out when and where I can. I love you, and say hi to Steve for me.”_

“I will. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and dropped it to the couch next to him, mulling over her words. He just couldn’t comprehend the idea of letting his son cry just so his daughter wouldn’t feel left out.

On the other hand, he couldn’t stand the idea of Genevieve growing away from him, Henry was a huge wedge in their relationship that up until now had been loving.

Steve could handle it when Bucky needed him to, he decided at last.

 

Sure enough, as soon as Henry started bawling for food or something, Genevieve, who had been cuddled into his side, satisfied, had straightened, her chin starting to wobble.

“Pop…” she whined, eyes going big and round as he reached for Henry.

“It’s okay, baby,” he soothed, trying not to sound too desperate. “You can stay, alright? He just wants something to eat. I can feed him right here, and you can stay with me.”

Really, Bucky was supposed to making up a formula for him, since he knew from experience that he couldn’t breastfeed day and night, but an exception could be made while he was still working it out.

Sure enough, though her eyes were still shiny and her chin was still wobbling, she curled back into his side as he pulled Henry to his chest, pulling down his shirt and wincing as the baby rooted for a nipple.

“Papa,” Genevieve mumbled a moment later, grip tightening on his shirt. “Why he do that?”

“Do what?” he murmured in response, gaze falling to her inquisitive face. She looked utterly indifferent to Henry himself, more interested in what he was doing to Bucky’s chest. “Oh. Well, baby, he’s – he’s eating.”

“He eat you?” she sounded alarmed, and Bucky couldn’t help the little laugh he gave, quick to stop and settle back down before he disturbed Henry.

“No, baby. When – when you and Henry were both born, my body made you food, so that you didn’t have to get it anywhere else. So that I could take care of you.”

Genevieve frowned, staring at Bucky’s chest again. “I eat?”

“You used to, yeah. You don’t need to anymore though,” he assured her with a grin. “You’re a big girl, now. You get to eat big girl food.”

“Oh,” she cooed, turning her gaze back to the TV and losing interest until Henry finished his feed.

“Steve?” he called, going as loud as he dared with his infant son so close to his face. The alpha wandered in a moment later, looking slightly reserved.

“Everything alright?” he asked dubiously, noting the lack of crying from either child, but noting the slight whimpers from Henry.

“Yeah, we’re good. Can you burp Henry? Evie and I are watching a movie, right, baby girl?”

The look she gave him made him want to cry for even thinking of ignoring her in favour of his son. It was like every star from the sky had found its way into her eyes, grateful for the time she was spending with her papa.

“Yeah!”

Steve chuckled, the dark circles beneath his eyes less prominent as he sauntered forward and gently took Henry from Bucky’s arms. The omega missed the warmth immediately, finding himself chasing the tiny body with his hands before letting them fall, wrapping them instead around his daughter.

“I got him,” Steve muttered with a smile, disappearing down the corridor with Henry at his chest, soothed by the gentle rhythm of Steve’s footsteps.

 

Everything came together a little smoother, after that. Not perfect – sometimes, Bucky just couldn’t stop himself from gravitating towards his baby instead of Genevieve, and sometimes he broke down with his disgust at himself for ‘choosing a favourite’. A quick pep talk from his mother or Steve was usually enough, however, to set him back, determinedly, on track.

 

“Daddy?” Genevieve asked one night, as Steve was tucking her into her bed. Her eyes were wide but tired.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Is Henry stay?”

Steve frowned, unsure of how this conversation was going to go. They’d had many a tantrum over this subject, and he didn’t like the idea of one at bedtime.

“Yeah, baby. Henry’s staying with us. For good.”

To his enormous relief, Genevieve only nodded slowly, her brows furrowing adorably.

“Okay,” she sighed, eyes flitting closed. “Night daddy.”

“Night, Evie.” He whispered back, pressing a kiss to her forehead and smiling softly as the wrinkles that didn’t belong on her face smoothed out, a small smile pressed onto her lips.

Bucky had already changed into sleep clothes, half-asleep under the covers with Henry’s crib at the base of the bed.

“Hey,” Steve whispered quietly. “I think Genevieve’s coming around to Henry.”

“She’s doing so much better,” Bucky agreed sleepily. “She likes to… to help with…” Bucky trailed off with a sigh, startling himself back awake a second later, met with a chuckle from Steve. “Bath time. She’s good at helping with… bath…”

“Get some sleep,” Steve whispered, sliding beneath the covers himself. “Sleep in tomorrow. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Mmm. I’m big spoon.” He muttered, and Steve laughed softly before obliging, letting Bucky press his chest to Steve’s back.

“Night, Buck,” Steve muttered, and Bucky just hummed, already asleep as he was halfway through.

 

“Henry play with _ducky_.” Genevieve said firmly. “I play with _doggie_.”

Henry was completely unconcerned and uncomprehending of everything his big sister was saying to him, being ten weeks old, but he didn’t cry, and just stared at her with big, adorable round eyes.

Bucky couldn’t be happier with the way she’d finally accepted that Henry was staying for good. At first it was a reluctant acceptance, but she slowly grew more accepting of her baby brother, talking to him with her own baby babble, and just growing into the sweet big sister he knew she would be.

“He can’t talk yet, pumpkin,” Bucky reminded her gently, and she just nodded wisely.

“I know, but me help. He smart. Like me,” she grinned at him then. “He talk ‘cause he smart.”

“Okay, puppy,” he agreed with a grin. “You can help Henry grow up to be smart, like you.”

He turned his attention back to a small pile of the work he was starting to catch up on, ready for his return to work in two weeks before he paused.

He liked his job.

Sure it was nothing flashy. Yeah, maybe it wasn’t really all that interesting, but he liked the guys he worked with. They were all his friends, and unbelievably supportive of each other.

But he loved his kids.

Every day leaving Genevieve when she was only Henry’s age had been irrevocably hard. He hated it, especially as she seemed to get bigger, grow up, everything when he was working. If Steve hadn’t filmed her first words and steps then Bucky would have been none the wiser.

He missed his little girl’s firsts, her first words, steps, and the first time she smiled at Steve, the first time she kissed him on the cheek of her own accord. The first time she cried so hard Steve needed to ask Peggy for help calming her down. The first time she made such an enormous mess with a diaper that Steve was still cleaning it up when he got home.

He missed it _all._

Could he miss that all over again?

Without realising it, his gaze had slid back over to the kids. Only when Steve’s repeated, slowly becoming more concerned, _“Bucky?_ ” got through to him did he snap back to attention.

“I’m fine,” he said instinctively. Steve narrowed his eyes.

“You just zoned out for a few minutes staring at the kids. That’s not fine.”

Bucky sighed, shaking his head. “We’ll talk about it later,” he compromised, pushing his pile of work away from him and sliding to the floor to play with his kids.

 

“I don’t want to go back to work.” He admitted as soon as the kids were asleep. Steve looked at him in surprise, eyebrows climbing his forehead.

“What?” he asked, genuinely shocked. “You love your job.”

“I like my job,” he corrected softly, shooting a wistful look towards the kids’ rooms. “I love the kids.”

Steve took a long moment to understand exactly what Bucky was trying to tell him, his eyes widening as he followed Bucky’s eyes down the corridor.

“This is about…” he trailed off.

“I missed almost everything about Genevieve growing up,” he continued for his mate. “I missed her first words and steps. All of her firsts. I didn’t think it mattered so much until she got used to having me around more. I – I can’t leave them, Steve. Not both of them. Not anymore.”

His alpha was silent for a long moment.

“Okay,” Steve said simply. “If – if that’s what you want, okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” Steve shrugged, eyes a little softer. “Could probably use the help around the house now that we’ve got two running round. And I make more than enough to keep us going – hell, for the next twenty years. Even including college savings.”

Bucky still shrunk in on himself a little, guilty. “I-”

“No,” Steve interrupted him. “I’m not gonna have you back out on this because you feel guilty. My work’s taking off, _big time_. You being at home means I can sneak an extra hour or two of that work in the day without trying to juggle two kids rather than just one that can sit in front of Sesame Street all day without complaint.”

“But-”

“But nothing. You want to spend more time with the kids,” Steve shrugged a little listlessly, but it was countered by the bright, but tired, smile on his face. “There’s no way that’s a bad thing.”

Despite all of it, though, Bucky still felt a heavy load of guilt. He was doing this so he didn’t miss Henry grow up, but he’d already missed his daughter.

“Buck,” Steve sighed, shaking his head, sensing that he wasn’t getting through to him. “What is it?”

“Genevieve,” he mumbled, eyes tearing up a little.  “I missed her grow up. She’s started _preschool_ , and I missed everything that led up to that.”

His mate softened, pulling Bucky into his side and pressing his lips softly to his forehead.

“I know,” Steve murmured gently. “It’s okay. But you did your best with her, and now you won’t miss it for Henry. Or ever again.”

Despite himself, Bucky laughed breathily. “I don’t know how you always manage to sneak in the fact that you’re already planning our next six kids.”

“Six is a bit excessive… four’s good though.”

“I hate you,” Bucky grumbled. “But… it’s okay? That – that I’m not going back to work?”

“It is with me. You, uh, might wanna call Dugan about that, though.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I’ll go into work tomorrow and see him.”

Steve just hummed in agreement, leaning over to press his lips softly to his mate’s. Bucky smirked into the kiss, even as Steve moved more insistently, lifting himself up to straddle Bucky.

“You, mister, have a one track mind.”

“Don’t hear you complainin’ though.”

 

He felt immensely guilty as he explained the situation to Dugan, especially since the other man’s son was only a month or two older than Henry, but the beta man took it in stride, understanding but still perplexed.

“You don’t want to come back,” Dugan summarised as Bucky finished explaining himself. The omega nodded.

“Not now, at least. Maybe – maybe in a year, or something. If – if you still had the job. Or you wanted me to come back.”

Dugan looked conflicted for a long moment before sighing.

“I’m not going to lie to you,” he said slowly. “I can’t promise you that you’ll have a job to come back to, if you ever wanted to.”

Bucky nodded – he’d expected this, and was completely prepared for it. “I know.” he admitted. “I’m sorry. This is just…”

“I’d much rather be at home all day every day with Brian,” Dugan told him, eyes softening. “So I really don’t blame you for doing it. But there’s just nothing I can do about if you wanted to come back.”

“Thank you,” Bucky blurted suddenly, starting to get a little emotional. “You – you gave me this job when I needed it the most. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

“Don’t start cryin’,” Dugan warned him. “And you don’t need to thank me. You’ve worked brilliantly and it’s us that should thank you. Good luck with your kids, and don’t you dare be a stranger, you hear?”

“I won’t be. I promise.”

 

“I just quit my job.” He said heavily, Henry already pressed against the crook of his elbow, bottle in his other hand. Steve softened, settling closer to Bucky so he could press a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“How’d Dugan take it?”

“Well,” he admitted. “He said that I might not have a job to come back to, if I ever did, but I was expecting that.”

“I – I would say I’m sorry, but this is what you wanted, so…”

“So,” Bucky said soberly, smiling gently as Henry suckled at his bottle. “We get to spend more time with the kids. Like we wanted.”

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, but his gaze was fixed on his mate.

Not that Bucky could see.

 

 

 

“What would you say if I said I wanted to move house?”

Bucky froze, Genevieve amusing herself with braiding his hair, and Henry babbling to his chest.

_“What?_ ”

He had to physically hold himself back from swearing. He blinked quickly, leaning forward slowly so he didn’t alarm Genevieve.

“Baby,” he murmured to her. “Can you play with Henry for a little while? Daddy and I need to talk.”

Genevieve huffed at him. “Henry have no hair.”

“Your dolly has hair, baby.”

“Don’t like dolly hair.”

“Then play with your other toys. You like your legos? Play with those.”

His daughter just huffed again, all Steve even though she was only a toddler, and waddled away.  Bucky felt a little guilty about setting Henry on the floor next to her, but ever since he’d learnt to crawl, it was all he wanted to do. Six months old was younger than Genevieve had been when she started to crawl, but Bruce assured him it was totally possible, and not abnormal.

“… _Move?”_ Bucky demanded, eyes still firmly fixed on Henry as he crawled to his sister.

“Well… yeah.” He heard Steve swallow. “This place was plenty big when it was the two of us, or when Genevieve was born. But now we’ve got two kids, both getting bigger, and maybe another one in the not-so-distant future, and we could use some more room?”

Bucky managed not to roll his eyes at Steve’s needling for yet another baby. “We can’t get any apartments bigger than this, Steve. You basically struck gold here.”

“…I wasn’t talking about an apartment.”

Bucky would admit it. He gawked.

“A _house_? You want to buy a _house_?”

Steve at least had the decency to look mildly guilty.

“Well… not so much _buy_ a house. But we can talk about that. We could use the room, Buck, you know we could. And it’s not out of our price range – even without you working-”

“But...” Bucky struggled, shaking his hair out of his face. “We can’t – really, we… why would we… but…”

Steve laughed softly, head tilting to his side. “You having a rough go of it, babe?”

“We don’t…”

Steve couldn’t resist leaning over and pecking him on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m gonna take the kids out to the park, or something. Maybe go to the store – we need some stuff. You… think about it. Try not to blow your brain up.”

“Steve,” Bucky groaned, hiding his head in his hands, but he didn’t try to finish his sentence, so Steve just accepted Bucky’s meltdown.

“I’ll see you in an hour or two, sweetheart. “Evie, Henry, we’re going to the park, now. Want to take anything with you?”

“Ketchup!” Genevieve replied instantly, already on her feet and toddling towards him. She was talking about her favourite stuffed toy, the white Pac-Man ghost that Bucky had won for her from a claw machine. Henry babbled absently, still not a talker yet, but one hundred percent a crawler, following his big sister with speed Steve hadn’t expected before he had kids.

“Yeah, we can get Ketchup. Go put your shoes on, princess. _Not_ your boots, they’ll get muddy.” He called after her as she darted away, giggling madly. He sighed, picking Henry up and pulling him to his side. “What about you, puppy?” he murmured, glancing at Bucky. The omega was incredibly distracted. “Let’s get your car seat.”

 

The park was always an interesting affair, with Steve talking to other mothers and fathers that were sat nearby with their own kids. The majority of conversation always revolved around Henry and how cute he was.

He allowed Genevieve half an hour of play before getting to his feet, gesturing for her to come over.

“Play time’s over, baby. Time to go to the store.”

“B-ice cream?”

“Hmm,” he pretended to think about it. “What day is it, puppy?”

“…Thursday?”

“Hmm. And what day is ice cream day?”

She deflated. “Friday,” she mumbled, dragging her shoe on the ground.

“You’re gonna ruin your shoe, princess. Now come on, in the car.”

She soon forgot her disappointment at no ice cream as she took her stuffed Ketchup back into her arms, cooing to Henry as he was secured into his car seat too.

“Where we going?”

“We’re going to Target,” he humoured her, smiling as he caught her gaze in the reflection of the mirror. “You like Target, right?”

“Hm,” she shrugged, turning her gaze back to the window, watching as the trees whipped past until they turned into the signs proclaiming that they’d arrived at their destination.

“Now,” he turned to his daughter as they approached the carts. “Do you want to walk with me and hold my hand, or sit in the cart?”

She thought about it for a minute. “Which for big girl?”

“Big girls decide what they want to do themselves,” he appeased her. She frowned.

“Cart.” She decided, and Steve felt an immense relief. He put Henry’s carrier down for a moment, long enough to put Genevieve into her seat before picking him up and placing him next to his sister.

“You’ve got a very important job ahead of you, baby,” he spoke, eyes already darting around the store as he pushed the cart. “You up for it?”

“What?” she narrowed her eyes, clutching Ketchup to her chest with suspicion.

“You need to make sure Henry stays _right_ where he is.” He told her confidentially. “You know how he likes to crawl away, so it’s your job as his big sister to keep him right where we want him. Can you do that, Pumpkin?”

“I’m a good sister,” she decided, turning her gaze to Henry, smiling as he grinned back at her, starting to babble.

Relieved, Steve began to shop.

Every now and then he’d stop to ask Genevieve’s opinion on things, like her favourite cereal, or what she liked best for her snack time, but otherwise she was mostly content with entertaining her brother.

Until she started crying to come down from the cart.

“Evie,” he said patiently. “You said you wanted to sit up there. You can’t change your mind right now. Can you wait until Daddy’s finished shopping?”

“No!” she screamed. “Want to come down _now_.”

“If you want to come down,” he continued calmly, managing not to growl, instead gritting his teeth to keep himself under control. “You have to ask _politely_. You know how to ask _nicely_.”

“Daddy,” she huffed, a hysterical edge to her voice as she tried to get quieter. Though it didn’t really work, he appreciated the effort. “Want down please.”

“You want to come down,” he corrected absently, but he nodded. “Okay. But you have to promise to stay right by my side and not go wandering away. Do you promise?”

“Pinky,” she said solemnly, holding out her pinky finger for Steve to promise with her.

“Okay,” he agreed, pulling her from the seat and settling her next to him. “Because you’ve moved out of the seat, you’re not allowed to ask to go back in. Those are the rules.”

“Okay,” she sighed, reaching up to grasp his free hand as the other pushed the cart.

He stopped in the bread aisle as he was deciding between white or brown bread. He was interrupted by a voice that Steve had never expected to ever hear again.

“Steve? Steve… Rogers?”

Steve turned towards the voice, glaring at the man who had almost ruined Bucky’s life.

“Rumlow,” he grunted, hand tightening around Genevieve’s to keep her close to him. “I thought you were in jail.”

“I, uh…” the asshole swallowed. “Got time off for good behaviour. Cleaned up my act. You look like you’re doing well for yourself,” he nodded to Genevieve and Henry’s car seat.

Steve didn’t respond, continuing to glare at the alpha, practically declaring territory.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he said at last. “To talk to me like you didn’t do everything you did.”

Rumlow deflated, having the decency, at least, to look guilty. “I’ve made mistakes I’m not proud of. But like I said, I cleaned up my act, I even – I got a decent job, now. No funny business with it either.”

“I should hope not,” he said as snidely as he could manage. Genevieve tugged on his hand.

“Daddy,” she whispered clearly enough for Rumlow to hear her. “Who’s that man?”

“That doesn’t matter,” he assured her, voice softening in the way it only did for his kids. Rumlow smiled kindly at her, and it took every ounce of Steve’s control not to tug her out of his view.

“Really got your whole, you know, picket fence, didn’t you?” Rumlow sounded somewhat wistful. “Guess I lost my chance at that when I let Bucky go. How, uh, how is he? Do you still talk to him?”

“Yes.” He said shortly. “He’s doing very well. Happy, without you there to screw up his life. He’s married now. Very happily.”

Rumlow’s eyes widened in surprise, and Steve really wanted to punch it off his stupid face.

“Oh, he is? That’s really good. Do – do I know the lucky guy? Or – or girl?”

“Yeah,” he replied, pride puffing up his chest as he smiled without humour, brandishing his ring. “Me.”

The wide-eyed shock on Rumlow’s face was unbelievably worth it.

“Oh, wow,” he breathed. “Can’t say I expected that one. So that means…” he trailed off, eyes flickering between Genevieve and Henry, catching sight of the mating bite on Steve’s neck, nodding slowly. “Yeah, I see it now. She looks a lot like him. Your kids are cute.”

“Thanks.” He said drily. “I should get going before you try to ruin their lives too. I hope to never see you again.”

“I’m sorry, you know,” Rumlow replied instead of a goodbye, truly remorseful. “If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t do what I did to him. Maybe it would be different.”

Steve thought for a long moment. “You really screwed him over, but I’m glad it didn’t turn out different, Rumlow. If it did, I probably wouldn’t have my kids, and you’d have run him into the ground some other way, so goodbye.”

 

He forgot the bread.

 

“Who was that man?” Genevieve asked again as he was belting her into her seat.

His jaw ticked. “That was a man who wasn’t very nice to your papa a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she sighed softly. “He seemed nice.”

“Sometimes mean people seem nice until you get to know them, so you be careful, baby.”

She looked confused even as she nodded, so Steve knew she didn’t quite understand, and she wouldn’t for a really long time.

He wanted that time to never come, to keep her with him for the rest of her life and protect her from everything that might go wrong.

But he couldn’t, because his kids were growing up, and one day they wouldn’t need him so much anymore. And he could live with that.

 

Bucky greeted them at the door with a soft smile on his face, but Steve’s mood had turned thunderous after the unexpected meeting with Rumlow.

“Hi,” he said shortly, passing the groceries to him without another word, darting down to Henry’s room to get him out of the car seat.

He could practically hear Bucky’s frown radiating from the kitchen to Steve, but he pushed it down, settling Henry onto his hip and returning to the living room.

“Hey,” Bucky said loudly, his thoughts clear on his face. Steve just raised his eyebrows and sat down on the couch, settling Henry on his knee and bouncing him. “Want to tell me why you’re in such a bad mood all of a sudden?”

“We’ll talk later.” Steve dismissed, turning his gaze to the Hell’s Kitchen episode Bucky had been watching.

Bucky growled quietly. “You were the one who wanted to talk. I’ve thought about it, and now I want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk about _that_ , not right now,” Steve countered hotly.

“Jesus, what the heck’s gotten into you?”

“We’ll talk about it _later_.”

Bucky glared. “You don’t get to talk to me like that ‘cause you’re in a bad mood. If you want to talk to the _kids_ like that, you can stay with Sam and Maria.”

“For god’s sake, just because I’m in a bad mood doesn’t mean I’m going to bite the head off anyone that comes near me.”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” Bucky snarled. “You always get all high and mighty when you’re in a bad mood, because you’re the _only one_ who has an off day.”

“I’m not gonna have this argument,” Steve scowled, getting to his feet and handing Henry over. “I’ve got work I need to do, so if you need me, I’ll be in the bedroom.”

With that, he left his mate and children to go and stew alone in the bedroom.

 

Dinner was the most awkward it had been in years.

Henry and Genevieve, as children, were completely oblivious to the tension between their fathers, instead babbling and cooing to themselves, each other, and Steve and Bucky whenever they would listen.

“We go store today, Popop.” Genevieve told Bucky fondly, her grin wide on her face.

“I know you did, puppy,” he indulged her. “Did you have a nice day with your _daddy_?”

Though she couldn’t tell, that last word was hissed, a snide remark that Steve rolling his eyes.

“We met a man in store,” she confided, and Steve straightened suddenly.

“Your pop doesn’t want to hear about that, princess.”

“Yes I do,” Bucky interrupted with another glare, but Genevieve was already talking.

“Daddy said the man wasn’t nice to you, pa-pa.” Genevieve frowned. “But daddy’s nice. Daddy gives cuddles.”

“Who was this man?” Bucky asked, carefully controlling his tone in front of his daughter but making it clear to Steve that they would be _speaking_ later.

“I’ll talk _later_.” Steve responded, equally as carefully, and Genevieve started talking about something else, Henry started crying, and the events were forgotten temporarily.

As soon as the clock struck eight, though, it was the kids’ bedtime, so Steve tucked Henry in as Bucky read Genevieve a bedtime story. Henry was already mostly asleep by seven-thirty, so tucking him in was a formality at that point, but he didn’t seem to want to let his daddy go until he’d given him a goodnight kiss to the forehead.

“Night, puppy,” Steve whispered, flickering on his night light and leaving the door cracked open, just as he had done for his daughter the past three years.

Unfortunately, Bucky was still part-elephant, not forgetting his awful mood all day and being completely prepared to call him out on it as soon as he took his seat on the couch.

“Start talking now.” Bucky growled, arms flooded and TV off to make sure his attention was solely on his mate.

Steve rubbed a hand across his face. “I ran into your _ex_ at the store today.” He spat, irritation already creeping back in.

“I have more than one ex, Steve.”

“You know _exactly_ who I’m talking about. The _only_ ex of yours that can get me this fucking mad.”

Bucky grit his teeth. “I thought,” he said carefully, slowly. “That Brock was in jail.”

“He got _time off_ for good behaviour.” Steve was practically vibrating with annoyance, knowing that Rumlow was out there and could get right back up to his old tricks any time.

“If he tries to come near me again I’ll take out a restraining order.” Bucky said suddenly, too flippant. Steve stared at him.

“That’s not the goddamn _point_ , Buck. After everything he did to you and those other people, he’s just getting away with it? Free to – to go wherever the hell he wants?”

“For God’s sake, Steve, this argument doesn’t even _matter_. He’s out, fine, but you can sure as hell bet they’re keeping a close eye on him. And if you’re worried that I want to go _back_ to him-”

“I never said that!”

“You look like you’re thinking it! If you _are_ worried, you just remember that you’re the one I married.”

“You were halfway to proposing to him _yourself_ before he left,” Steve sneered. “I remember every fucking time you’d come crying to me or Sam because he didn’t seem as serious as you did.”

“Why are you even bringing this up?” Bucky demanded, hiding the hurt in his voice beneath anger. “It doesn’t _matter._ He left and we got together. Married, mated, a fucking family. _He_ doesn’t fucking _matter_!”

“But he _does_ ,” Steve almost yelled back, keeping his voice low only because the kids were sleeping. “He _hurt_ you, Buck! If things had gone even a _little_ differently, we wouldn’t be here. Our _kids_ wouldn’t be here!”

“But they are, and he’s not, so you need to shut the fuck up and move _on_ , Steve! I never want to see him again, and _you_ are the light of my fucking life. I don’t want to argue about my god damned _ex_ , I want to argue about the kind of _house_ we want to buy. I want to argue about when we should have another baby, I want to argue about what we’re going to have for dinner tomorrow night, or – or when we’re having my ma over for dinner next.”

Steve’s anger dwindled, tension seeping out of his body as he whispered,

“You want to have another baby?”

“Steve,” Bucky chided sharply, but sighed. “You need to let go of everything he did. I have.”

“I can’t. Not after everything he did to you.”

“Then just – just _forget_ him. You have until now. So what if he’s not in jail anymore? We don’t ever need to see him again.”

“Just – just _knowing_ that he’s out there makes my skin crawl. I don’t care if he’s _changed_ or _become a better person_. I don’t care. He used to be a shit stain. That’s all he’ll ever be to me.”

But Bucky just shook his head, growing tired of the argument already. “I don’t want to talk about Brock anymore. Or ever, really. What – what he did was unforgivable. But what we _have_ is unforgettable. Two kids and – God, Steve, what we have is perfect. We don’t need to think about Brock anymore. He’s not a part of my life anymore.”

“I guess you’re right,” Steve rubbed a hand over his face. “Should we talk about the house thing tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Bucky agreed, softening and letting Steve settle his head into the crook of his neck. “A little late for it now.”

 

“Daddy?” Genevieve whispered, eyes wide as she tugged on his sleeve, Bucky disappearing into the kitchen with Henry.

“Yes, puppy?”

“Are you and Papa –” she frowned, brows knitting together in confusion. “Is papa going?”

Steve frowned too. “Going? He’s just going to the kitchen.”

Genevieve frowned harder. “Leave,” she sighed. “Is he _leave_. For good.”

Steve’s eyes widened, and he pulled her gently onto his lap. “No, baby,” he replied, confused. “Papa’s gonna stay for a long, long time. Why do you think he’s leaving?”

“You yell,” she whined, twisting her mouth. “Last night, you and papa yell.”

The alpha sighed, shaking his head. “Sometimes your Papa and I have bad days, where we argue with each other. Sometimes it’s over little things, sometimes over really, really big things. Yesterday was over a little thing. When we argue about the little things, we’re always going to be alright. When we argue over really big things, we might not be okay for a little while. But we’ve never argued about a really, really, _really_ big thing. So that means that we’re okay.”

“Don’t want Papa to go,” she moaned.

“He doesn’t want to go either.” He promised. “That means he’s going to stay.”

“Good,” she sighed, falling forwards and resting her forehead against his chest.

Steve shook his head with a quiet chuckle, settling one hand on her back and letting her cuddle up to him. God knows in ten years’ time, she’d probably be ‘too cool’ to hug her parents.

“Okay, bumblebee,” Bucky chatted to Henry, letting him babble into his neck as he returned to the living room with food for the boy. “Evie, half an hour until naptime. You think you can last until then?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded against Steve’s chest, peeking out at her papa as he sat next to them, watching as Henry ate his snack.

She didn’t, but she got close, so they let her be. Henry settled for his nap with little complaint not long after, and that was just fine too.

“I thought we’d gotten past the phase where we held her through her naps,” Bucky said pointedly with a smirk. Steve grinned at him, looking down at Henry who, himself, was still nestled in Bucky’s arms.

“We have. We’re just humouring them.” Steve teased, leaning over to press his lips to the corner of his mate’s mouth, as close as he could get without disturbing the kids. “We need to get them down. I’ll take Evie, you put Henry down.”

“Then we can talk.” Bucky smiled softly as he rolled to his feet.

“Yeah,” Steve muttered to himself, knowing that Bucky had already gone.

Genevieve stirred a little as he tucked her into her bed, but with a stroke of his hand against her hair and forehead, she was out again.

With that, he returned eagerly for the conversation he and Bucky were going to try to have within thirty minutes, a Herculean feat he was sure they’d fail in.

He beat Bucky to the living room, but the omega wasn’t far behind, rolling his eyes.

“Finally,” he grumbled, moving to straddle Steve’s lap. “We can have some alone time.” His lips found Steve’s and the alpha whined into his mouth, fully entranced by his mate.

“Buck,” he moaned. “We’re supposed to be talking…”

“Let’s buy a house,” Bucky muttered simply, returning his lips to Steve’s without hesitating.

“No,” Steve interrupted, turning his head out of the kiss regretfully. “I don’t want to buy a house.”

Bucky stopped, back straightening as he leaned back on Steve’s lap, confusion wearing his expression thin.

“You said…”

“I know. I don’t want to _buy_ a house.”

“You’re not making any sense.” Bucky huffed, taking his warmth and flopping to Steve’s left.

“I’m an architect,” he pointed out. “I design buildings for a living. I have a hand in seven different contracting and building companies. Three of which owe me favours.”

Realisation dawned across Bucky’s face like a sunset then, and Steve took the opportunity to press Bucky slowly against the seat of the couch, sliding in between his legs.

“Say the word,” he murmured. “And I will build you the best house you could possibly ask for. And I’ll have it built before Henry turns two.”

Bucky swallowed sharply, biting his lip before he replied, “Why two?”

Steve grinned.

“At least two years old before we have another baby,” he quoted from the agreement they made after they had Genevieve. They hadn’t strictly discussed if that was what they were doing with Henry too, but judging from Bucky’s lack of an argument, they were on the same page.

In fact, Bucky’s lack of an argument was very much overhauled by the frantic make-out session on the couch, like they weren’t thirty and almost-thirty, like they didn’t have two children just a room away, and were right back to being horny teenagers while their mothers weren’t home.

 

“Describe your perfect house to me,” Steve asked him later that night, cuddled into Bucky’s chest and not paying any attention to their movie. Bucky’s chest heaved with quiet laughter.

“Not too big,” he said at first. “Enough room for the four of us. Room for a fifth. Four bedrooms max, all the same kinda size we got here. So not too big at all. If we’re going for a two-storey… I want at least three bathrooms. That ain’t negotiable, pal; one downstairs, one for the kids, and one just for us. Maybe we could have our bedroom downstairs,” he mused. “Make some more room upstairs.” He seemed to dismiss it immediately, shaking his head with enough vigour that Steve’s head shook. “I was thinking about an upstairs playroom, but boy, is that a bad idea or what?”

Steve snorted. “A whole room upstairs for the kids to play in unsupervised. Excellent idea, baby.”

“We don’t need a dining room,” Bucky said decisively. “People don’t really use those. We can have a table in the kitchen, and all, like an open plan we got here. A dining room would be totally useless. A decent size living room, but not huge. I want to be able to see the whole room from one spot. Maybe an attic… we could convert it into an office for you, or me, if I ever get some work to do from home when the kids are older. And a garden! We’ve gotta have a garden. We could get that dog Evie wants so badly, and plenty of room in the garden for the kids to play in…”

“I’ll design it for you,” Steve promised him. “There’s some plots of land not too far from here that are decently sized, decently priced. If you wanted to take a look and see just how big, we can go. Anything and everything you want, baby, I’ll build for you.”

“You ain’t building shit,” Bucky remarked fondly, smiling as he smoothed his fingers through Steve’s hair.  “But we can take a look. Evie has preschool tomorrow, so while we’re out we can take a look?”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve purred.

 

Steve called in his favours, managing to get the building started in less than three months, and finished a year later, perfectly timed for Henry’s second birthday – and Bucky’s fifth month of pregnancy.

They never managed to stick to a schedule anyway.


End file.
